The Wardrobe
by Dare5
Summary: Well ... Zach's stuck with a wet, beautiful girl in a wardrobe. Life could be worse. ClaireZach Clach


TITLE: The Wardrobe  
RATING: I don't know ... R? It's nothing pornographic, really, and all the clothes stay on, but they make out.  
COUPLE: Claire/Zach (Clach)  
SUMMARY: Well ... Zach's stuck with a wet, beautiful girl in a wardrobe. Life could be worse.  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters from Heroes and am not making any profit with them. They all belong to NBC. If they were mine, then I guess I'd make Zach and Claire a couple and wouldn't let Thomas Dekker leave for „The Sarah Connor Chronicles" (because I would have hired him with a contract and not per episode).  
AUTHOR'S NOTE:

#1: I tried to think of the most effective way to make them hook up. This is it.

#2: English is not my first tongue, so I apologize for any errors you might find.

The Wardrobe  
by Dare

"What do we do now?"

"We wait."

"Here?"

Claire shot him an impatient glance. "Of course _here_," she snapped. "Peter will make sure they leave. And furthermore our wet clothes will just slow us down." She rinsed her blond hair. "We spent the night here, and tomorrow, we'll see what's next."

Zach sighed and eyed the inside of the wardrobe wearily. It was a dark, uncomfortable, musty place that smelled like wood and moths. Also, he couldn't stretch his legs, because otherwise he would cramp Claire.

The girl, besides trying to dry her clothes, was occupied with something entirely else: she squeezed her skin and tried to remove a bramble with attached thorns from her left shoulder.

Zach watched with barely concealed fascination as the wound closed up and left nothing behind but bare, flawless skin.

Claire shot him a glance, maybe suspecting him to gape, but Zach just met her eyes with concerned curiosity. He didn't ask her how she felt – and if she hurt, because he had seen her pushing her rips back inside her body and she didn't as much as grimace then.

Zach tried to find a comfortable position and some space, but whenever he shifted, his legs fell asleep. Furthermore, the wall was hart and uncomfortable and his hands where sticky with dust. He tried to wipe them on his trousers.

"This is going to be one hell of a night," she muttered, as she looked around and wondered if those dark depths over her head contained and cobwebs – or worse.

Zach watched her for a second. The prospect of spending a night with ... a girl was terrifying enough, but what made him feel even worse was the idea of getting no sleep at all. He already felt tired and if he wasn't getting at least a handful of sleep, he would be tired in the morning – and hurting all over.

There was of course, a way, to make things more comfortable, but Claire would possibly rip his head off for even suggesting the idea.

He looked over at her – she squirmed, trying to sit against the wall properly. Judging by her face, it wasn't working, so he decided to push his luck.

Zach cleared his voice. "Well." He paused to get her attention. "Don't get me wrong or anything and don't get angry," he was quick to say, "but ... I mean – if you want to and if you're not too uncomfortable with it, you could scoot over."

She turned her head to look at him properly. Even in the quasi-darkness – or really, in the gray-colored light that surrounded them, he could see her raised eyebrows. "I beg your pardon?"

Zach shrugged uneasily – and cursed himself. "It's just – that way, we could at least stretch out our legs and get at least some sleep."

She stared at him with an unreadable expression on her face, until he started to fidget out of nervousness.

"Forget it," he finally offered and looked away. He hoped she wouldn't notice his blush.

There was a silence within that wardrobe; Claire was still staring at him with some sort of grim expression on his face. In the end, she sighed, exasperated. "I hope you're not _that _bony."

And much to his surprise, she shifted over and positioned herself between his outstretched legs, her back leaning against his chest. The sudden warmth made him tense.

A thought occurred to him – this must be how the luckiest armchair in the world felt.

Zach's arms lay uselessly at his sides, as he watched to get her comfortable against his body. He had never seen Claire as the snuggling type, but if he hadn't know better, he would have assumed her trying to do _just that – _snuggling up to him

He couldn't see her face – only her blond hair which was obscuring his view. From under his chin, she sternly looked up at him. "Don't try anything, you hear?"

"No," he managed – and a part of him realized that she wasn't believing all the stuff Jackie had spread in school; that she thought he liked girls – and he was grateful for that.

Claire finally found a comfortable position and drifted towards sleep, while Zach himself tried not to think about her breath touching his neck, the smell of her hair and her skin, her being still a bit damp, but warm and alive – and ultimately feminine and soft.

Sometimes, Claire was so sweet, so adorable, it hurt deep down in his heart, and watching her closing his eyes with a strand of her hair touching her forehead and cheek, he realized this was one of these times.

And what made it even worse was that he wasn't able to protect her.

He gulped audibly. He could have sworn to see her smile, but on the other hand, he could chalk it up to darkness, exhaustion, closeness and approaching sleep.

Finally, his eyes closed and, despite the hard wall he leaned against, he felt complete and utter contentment.

Claire woke at four in the night. Her neck was stiff, and something under her cheek was damp, but otherwise she felt warm, comfortable, dry ... and most importantly save.

She felt something soft beneath her, and as she wriggled a bit, she identified it as a body.

Zach's body, to be precise.

He had slumped down a bit, until his head was partly on her shoulder and against the side of her face. His legs were angled and his forearms on his knees, while his hands were entwined, forming an effective circle of _Zachness _around Claire, without really touching her – and yet, nonetheless touching her deep within herself.

As she watched him she noticed her drool on his chest (hence the previous dampness under her cheek), and while she tried to remove it awkwardly and in vain, she became aware of his smell of clean soap, and aftershave, and shower gel – and something uniquely Zach that made her feel ... _something._

Raising a hand, she waved in front of his eyes, testing if he was really asleep.

He didn't stiffen or flinch – and she didn't even feel his heartbeat quicken. It was her own heart that did so, though.

Leaning towards him and, ever so softly, nuzzling her nose against the side of his neck, prompted her to take a deep breath.

She sighed, enjoying the feel of him under that tiny spot of skin and his fragrance – and after making sure he truly was asleep, Claire happily went back to the dreamland, while taking his arms and wrapping them safely around her waist.

When Zach opened his eyes several hours later, he looked right into a couple of blue ones, staring at him.

It took him a moment to realize that it was Claire he was looking at – and when he did so, he smiled dreamily at her, only to evoke an amused smile from her side and a tilt of her head.

That was the moment when the feel of his entire body returned and he realized that

a) there was too much touching and

b) somehow, he had managed to embrace her during the night.

At a moment's notice he was awake and desperately tried to pull away, only to realize that she wouldn't let him.

Zach tried nevertheless – and even in the darkness, Claire saw him blush.

"Er, I didn't mean to ... I mean, you warned me and it just --"

"Zach," she sharply interrupted.

"I'm sorry," he offered pitifully.

Her grasp tightened – he could feel her hands burning through his shirt.

"Zach," she whispered again and craned her neck. "Just shut up."

He blinked once (because she had told him to shut up) and twice, when, in the darkness of that musty wardrobe, he suddenly felt her kissing him and drawing him near. Her hands grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down.

It was an euphoric, joyful, wonderful feeling – her lips were parted only just and he felt her sweet breath coming through them. Shyly and slowly and gingerly at first, but when the kiss deepened, he felt an alarming ardor from her side, as she turned in his arms, encircled his neck ...

... and besides embracing her waist, he couldn't do much more than whimpering helplessly under her soft body – and all the girl parts that where pressed up against him.

After mere seconds, they were hopelessly entangled with each other – he was almost _laying _in that wardrobe, and most uncomfortably at that, while she was atop of him, using him as a warm, soft mattress and being so small – petite, really – _she_ was _quite _cozy and thoroughly enjoying herself.

Things weren't exactly getting out of control, as neither Claire nor he made any attempts to remove any clothes, but yet, her closeness and her enthusiasm began to take it's pleasant toll – and after one final unintentional move by her hips, he abruptly pulled away, stiffened and groaned.

"Zach?" Her voice was colored with concern and a certain layer of hurt. "Are you alright?"

He grimaced and stared past Claire's left ear towards the dark ceiling, while tightening his grasp around her to stop her from getting the wrong idea.

"I'm – fine," he croaked, not looking at her, not moving at all. "It's just – if you move like that _again_, I'm going to feel _too _fine if that's even possible."

A playful smile appeared on her face – she didn't move her hips, but a finger wandered up his neck, towards his chin, over his lips up to his cheek – the touch of a butterfly. He forced himself to look at her ...

... and the affection he saw in her azure blue eyes and the tenderness took his breath away. The warm, unguarded expression on her face was something he had never seen there before. Suddenly, she looked much younger to him – she suddenly looked like her actual age.

Her look possibly mirrored his own.

Zach felt himself relaxing a bit, as she stroked the side of his face and a strand of her hair tickled his neck.

He smiled weakly. "I'm ... really sorry."

Claire laughed, a bubbly, carefree sound. "Believe me, Zach, I take it as a compliment."

"Mhhm," was his only answer, as his own hand traveled to her cheek and finally to her perfect strawberry lips, gracing them softly. They were a bit swollen, but otherwise flawless. "I'm really grateful we jumped into that lake, got chased by the dogs, met your uncle and ended up in your father's wardrobe – in the Lincoln Bedroom, no less."

"So am I," she whispered.

Their glances met again – and Claire leaned down, until their foreheads touched.

"So ..." Zach hesitantly began. "Where does this leave us?"

She feigned a serious expression. "You know, I lure every boy I meet into the White House to ravish him in Abraham Lincoln's wardrobe."

Zach chuckled. The sound re-vibrated through his body and made her tremble slightly. "Yeah, I was afraid you'd say that." He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing useful came out. "I'm just --" he searched for words, unsure if she felt the same, until he saw her vulnerable expression, her luminous, hopeful eyes.

"Zach ...," she whispered and again, he felt her breath on his lips. "Please?"

Taking all his courage, he looked at her and the following words came out of his mouth:

"I just – wanted to tell you that you're the most beautiful person I have ever met – and I'll never understand how you can't see that yourself and despite being indestructible, I'll aways be there for you – and ... and ..." He captured her face in both hands and smoothed her skin with his thumbs. "... I love you more than anything else."

She closed her eyes for a second, and when she opened them again, she smiled radiantly and Zach saw wetness streaming down her cheeks. She tilted her head and really _looked _at him, sorting out his strands, nuzzling her nose against his.

"I love you, too," she managed hoarsely, and Zach kissed away her tears.

Fin

What do you think? Sucks? Doesn't suck? ... Criticism appreciated, but please be polite.


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